Something about Mary ... Magdalene

I caught part of this documentary on one of the upper cable channels last night while dozing off.  It woke me up and caught my interest.  

I just love the play on words for the title.

Since I was a young Catholic, I had questions about women in the church, about Mary and the other Mary.  Damn, I was confused.  I was intrigued about the woman, the prostitute who washed the Lord's feet with perfumed oil then wiped it with her own hair.  He only had kind words to say about her. How cool was that? 

It is 2013.  We have a new, gentler Pope. He has chosen the name Francis after Francis of Assisi.  I like that.  He has hope for the poor.  Hope for the environment.

Hope for rebuilding the RCC? 

Hope for women's role in the Church?  Perhaps enough positive change to encourage reluctant Catholics to return? 

At lunch this week when I mentioned these small steps of progress, a friend suggested that if I wanted to read the new testament again, to check out the Gospel according to John. 

Who exactly WAS the beloved disciple...? Hmmmm.

Isn't it funny that when one "testified" in the old days, only a man's word was respected and that he would grab his testicles when giving an oath?  I really should look this up, in a credible source.  I wish we could remove some of these gender-specific, dated words from our modern vocabulary.

You can read more tongue in cheek comments on my other blog.  If you are interested in a child's view of the Church, take a few moments to read excerpts from The Year of The Rabbit, a Novel About Fate, Family and Forgiveness.  Hop on over to the web site.  Sorry, no Easter eggs yet. 

Thanks for dropping by.

T  

 

Small comforts

In times of sadness, all we may need for comfort is a familiar face, reassuring voice or gentle touch.  

Children will likely seek out a favourite toy, a trusted friend or adult. The following is an excerpt from The Year of the Rabbit where Sera Fletcher is saddened after hearing about more loved ones planning to leave town.

- - - 

Summer 1975 at the Red Hare restaurant:

Sera folded the stroller and leaned it against the back wall before heading upstairs to the apartment.  On her way up, she straightened the picture frames of her railway friends. She entered her room to change into her pajamas and prepare for bedtime wash-ups. When she returned to the room, she tidied up her clothes and folded them neatly on the chair for wearing another day. 

She thought about the events of the day.  Dela and Amy were leaving town and taking Harry with them.  Matthew wasn’t getting better.  He was selling their family home.  

She reached for Edgar, her stuffed bear and pulled him in for a hug.  She squeezed him tightly for reassurance.  The music box in his torso made the familiar chiming sound.  She sat on her bed and held him in front of her.  His brown and black glass eyes stared back at her, as if showing concern.  She gently squeezed his stomach with both hands in tempo to the rock-a-bye-baby rhyme.  She played it over and over again, as if in a trance, seeking comfort.  Rock-a-bye baby, in the tree top…

How stupid, she thought as she continued squeezing.  This song is about a baby falling out of a frigging tree!  How is someone supposed to fall asleep with THAT image in his or her head?  She thought about Harry in the tree today, how happy and carefree he was and how she held him safely so he would not fall. 

She started to cry, suddenly realizing that he was going away, far away and that she would miss the little guy.  She pulled Edgar in closer and hugged him tightly then burst into sobs and lay down on her pillow.

Why? She thought while sniffing and sobbing.  Why am I losing people I love?  I’m losing my family.  Where is my family?  Who is my family anymore?  Who is my real father?

There was a gentle knock on the door then Jenny’s voice, “Sera? Sera?”

“Yes?” she answered.

“May I come in?” asked Mrs. Young.

“Yes,” Sera responded without moving.

Jenny entered smiling then suddenly changed her expression when she saw Sera’s tear-stained face.

“Oh, Sera!  What’s wrong sweetheart?”

Sera rose on her side to meet Jenny in a hug as the woman sat on her bed.

“I’m so sad, Mrs. Young,” she sobbed, “I’m so sad about everything.”

“Everything?  Why is that?”

“Well,” she sniffed, “Amy and Dela are going away and they’re taking Harry with them.”

“Yes, I know.  I’m sad about that too.”

“I’m going to miss him so much.  Taking care of him makes me happy.  I feel grown-up and… like a kid all at the same time.”

Jenny stroked Sera’s head and ran her fingers in and out of the unruly, dark curly hair.  “I know, Sera.  It’s hard for us to see them leaving too.  We have to remember that Amy is eighteen years old now and is a young adult who can make her own decisions. Dela is mature and responsible at sixteen.  We trust them with taking Harry.  They’re going on a journey to visit family in Alberta.  They’ll call.  They’ll write.  Understand?“

“I know…” Sera looked at Jenny momentarily, noticed grey strands of hair forming at the front of her hairline.  She felt a bond of love and trust between them.

“They’re going to visit my family, my parents and siblings in Edmonton.”

“Why aren’t you going too?”

“Well… There’s this restaurant to run, and you to look out for,” she smiled at Sera, “and.. relations between my parents and me have been strained since I married Carl and moved way over here.  We’re letting Amy and Harry warm the ice.  My mother seems very happy to have them visit.”

“That’s nice,” said Sera sleepily, “It’s nice to have family.” 

“What else is bothering you?” asked Jenny.

Sera wasn’t sure about mentioning the fact that Amy and Dela were lovers and how Jenny would respond. There was no way she could mention her resurfacing guilt about the crime she and Gwen committed.  

“I’m worried about… my Dad and that he’s not my Dad anymore.”

Jenny suddenly stopped stroking Sera’s hair then spoke, “Oh, Sera.  That’s okay.  It’s good to show your concern about his health.  He has been through a lot the past few years.”

“It’s hard to understand, to accept these things that happen around us,” said Sera.

“Maybe you will find comfort with talking to Mr. Young and me.  Think of this as your second home, okay? We’ll be here for you when we can, understand?”

“Yes.  Thank you,” Sera smiled, a little tired-out from the day.  She recalled the Buddha statue and the secret cabinet in the living room.  This seemed like a good time to work it into the conversation. 

- - - 

End

Thanks for reading.  Drop by www.yearoftherabbit.ca for more information about the novel. 

Refreshing reading from Georgian Bay

Come meet Gio, Sera and Aunt Georgette in The Year of the Rabbit, a novel about fate, family and forgiveness.  

Save a tree and read the Ebook. Save your money and get it for free - until July 1st. 

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Free ebook copy:

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Start here and follow the instructions:
The Year of the Rabbit
http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/86160

Hop in before July 1, 2012.

Enjoy!

They seemed like a happy family...

Domestic Violence is an undercurrent in The Year of the Rabbit.  

Although Sera Fletcher, her mother or other family members were not victims of abuse, they experienced a ripple effect when the abuse next door presented a crossroad.  Sera's friend Victoria and her mother were spirited away to a safe location by the people who suspected a problem but did little to address the situation prior.  

Of all the people, young Sera is the most affected and sinks into a depression from missing her best friend.  At least near the end of the novel, readers encounter the theme of forgiveness and promise of a reunion. 

Perhaps it is a coincidence but I have noticed the subject of Domestic Violence showing up more often in the news lately.  Have you noticed it too?

99,000 Canadians reported family violence in 2010
http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/ottawa/story/2012/05/23/ottawa-family-violence-canada-statscan-report.html

What keeps me hopeful is the fact that people are talking about it, raising awareness and even making efforts to educate others through art.  

The Atlantic Ballet Theatre of Canada is bringing " Ghosts of Violence " to Halifax
http://www.cbc.ca/arts902/add-category/2012/05/02/the-atlantic-ballet-theatre-of-canada-is-bringing-ghosts-of-violence-to-halifax/

Topic of domestic violence makes for a powerful, poignant ballet
http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/arts/theatre/topic-of-domestic-violence-makes-for-a-powerful-poignant-ballet/article2443716/

As a survivor of domestic violence, I do as much as my anxieties will allow in raising awareness and educating.  I don't think I could bring myself to watch a ballet, play or movie on the subject though.  When I have tried, the imagery and sounds brought back bad memories. 

I invite you to read a bittersweet tale of Fate, Family and Forgiveness.  You can download a free copy of the Ebook before May 31st.  

Thanks for scrolling this far.  Feel free to submit relevant comments below and give feedback after reading The Year of the Rabbit.  

T

All the world's a stage

In this excerpt from The Year of the Rabbit, young Sera Fletcher is once again saddened by the news of more people moving away - one of them is Gio, her biological father.  

Her mother is dying from a rapidly spreading form of cancer.  Twin sisters Dela and Gwen try to cheer Sera up.  With approval from the adults and costumes from Aunt Georgette's burlesque trunk, they and friends work magic to create a live performance in their back yard.

This excerpt represents one of the final stages of life for Marie Fletcher and the beloved cherry tree.  Readers with sharp perceptions will catch the reference to "All the world's a stage" and … the Tree of Life. 

T

~ ~ ~

Sera changed into her jeans and T-shirt. She fixed herself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, grabbed a glass of milk, clenched the book under her arm and went to sit on the patio.  Tiger, the tabby cat was sprawled out in a sunspot along the bench.  Ringo sat in the shade.

She felt some comfort chewing on and savoring the flavors from her sandwich and taking occasional gulps of cool milk.  With the help of an occasional breeze, she leafed through the book on the patio table while tonguing peanut butter from the roof of her mouth.  Through the screen door she could hear the others arriving home from lunch and heading upstairs to change.  She heard Aunt Georgette ask Mrs. Johnson how her mother was.

Sera finished her sandwich and gulped down the last of the milk.  She licked her lips and wiped the remainder with her hand. 

The dwindling aroma of lilacs wafted in from the nearby bushes.  A few honeybees buzzed back and forth between the clusters of flowers, then randomly flew away and headed towards the cherry tree.  She followed their flight with her gaze.

“It looks sad,” she thought.  “It looks like it’s dying too.”

The twins came out in their jeans and light spring tops to join her.  At sixteen years old, they were filling out nicely and shooting up in height — almost as tall as their father. 

They had heard from Mrs. Johnson that Sera was feeling down.

“Hey, Sera,” said Dela, patting her little sister on the shoulder, sitting beside her and pulling the cat onto her own lap, “So you know about Mrs. Johnson moving.”

“Yeah.”  She responded, still staring at the cherry tree.

Gwen piped in, “I just learned about it on Friday.  It’s a good thing her house didn’t catch fire last night too.”

Sera stayed silent.  She almost stopped breathing. 

Dela responded, “They think it was the oil furnace.  Apparently, dickhead Daryl didn’t drain it properly.”

All three girls snickered at the nickname.  Sera breathed a sigh of relief. 

“I heard him give the constables a verbal lashing this morning,” offered Gwen, “He was yelling at them to do their jobs in finding who —” she lowered her voice in a mocking tone, “did this to me  — and — you useless faggots couldn’t even track down my family … and they’re saying back to him, it’s not our job to investigate fires and…”

Dela was sensitive to Sera’s feelings about the ‘family’ comment and interrupted her sister’s portrayal, “Okay, Gwen.  We get the picture.”

Sera just sat staring at the tree and nodded as if to acknowledge the conversation.

Dela gently dropped the cat onto the patio floor and wiped the loose fur off her lap, “Sera?  What’s up?  What are you staring at?”

“The tree.”

The twins turned their gaze to the cherry tree.

“It looks like crap,” commented Gwen with a sad tone.

“It looks like it’s dying,” said Sera in a monotone voice.  “It looks like it’s suffering.”

“Like Mom,” added Dela quietly.

“Yeah.”

Georgette came out in her house clothes to check on the girls.  She kissed Sera on the cheek. 

“Qu’est ce qui se passe, mes petits choux?” she asked.

“We’re just talking about stuff, trying to cheer up Sera,” replied Dela.

Gwen suddenly bounced in her seat, “Hey, Aunt Georgette!”

Georgette laughed, startled,  “Mon dieu!  What is it?”

The red-headed teen smiled broadly, looking at her sisters then her Aunt, “Can we put on a show?”

“A show?”

Dela grimaced at her sister, wrinkling her freckled nose, “What do you mean?”

“Can we set up a stage under the cherry tree with sheets for a backdrop and curtains, you know… and put on a little show for our Mom?”

“I-I-I don’t know.”

“We can ask Dad and the boys to carry her bed out,” offered Dela, being sold on the idea.

“Dela and I know some songs and a few dance steps from our lessons,” continued Gwen, “Dad will be happy to see that money put to good use, right? You know how he teases us about it.” 

Georgette cocked her head and made a funny face.  She straightened up and said, “Well, why don’t you ask her? Go ask your Mother if that is what she wants.”

The twins raced from the benches towards the door.

“Quietly!” Georgette shouted then realized the irony of her own loud outburst and shook her head, exasperated. 

The girls slowed their pace and walked quietly into the house then to their mother’s room in the front parlor.  Marie responded that she loved the idea of an impromptu performance in the backyard! 

~

Family and friends worked magic that afternoon. Walter and Sera expertly climbed the tree to tie a half-dozen bed sheets from the branches and pin them to each other.  Matthew and Perry laid planks down for the small stage and dance floor. Georgette pulled out some of her costumes. Dela and Gwen were pleased to explore the contents of her theatrical trunks.  Amy brought Harry; Jenny and Carl arrived to set up chairs and watch the show; they had even closed the restaurant for the evening. 

As the western sky glowed azure blue and orange, Perry and Walter hooked up the service lamp to the side of the shed.  Once the stage was set and the performers were ready, Matthew, Perry and Walter were on hand to transport Marie’s bed and attachments out to the back yard.

Sera forced her imagination to compare the scene to that of an Egyptian queen being carried by her servants to some grand performance along the Nile. 

The events of the day gave her a bittersweet feeling.

~ ~ ~

Did you like that excerpt from The Year of the Rabbit?  Want to read more? Do drop by Smashwords to download 20% of the ebook for free.  I'm certain you will subsequently want to purchase a copy :o)

T

Winter Carnival

It's a cold, damp January 2012 in the Ottawa Valley.   Before the Year of the Dragon pounces in, I thought you would enjoy an excerpt from January 1975, leading in to the Year of the Rabbit.  Imagine yourself in a small town on the shores of Georgian Bay. Meet a lonely yet brave 11 year-old girl - a girl on a mission. 
  


It was late January at the Winter Carnival celebrations at the town park that Sera approached Aunt Georgette for a couple of dollars. 


“Don’t you want to go on a sled ride, chérie?” Georgette asked, “How about some hot chocolate and pastries?” 


"I have to go... see someone," the girl responded.


"Where are you going,  Would you like company?" asked her Aunt.


“Just somewhere, Aunt Georgette. I need to go alone,” Sera replied, choking back tears.


"Okay, chérie," Georgette bent and kissed her on the forehead while handing her two dollars.  


"I'll see you back home, Aunt Georgette.  Thanks." She quickly pocketed the money and turned towards Main Street.  


The snow drifted down in a gentle, lacey curtain.  Sera adjusted her scarf and pulled the knit hat down over her ears and dark curls.  Her walk was slow yet determined with her boots making a steady ka-lump, ka-lump rhythm as she walked down the street.  


She had no desire to join in festivities in the park or at the ice-fishing derby on the Bay.  She needed to be somewhere familiar and comfortable.  


Sera headed towards the Red Hare, digging up the warm memories of the place, anticipating a hot bowl of wonton soup and sitting in her favourite spot.   I have to take things into my own hands, she thought while walking down the bustling sidewalk.  "Someone has to fix this.  I'm going to talk to Mrs. Young."


When Sera entered the restaurant, she was disappointed and angry to see Daryl MacDonald at one of the booths near the front, chatting up some of his police buddies, Constables Harrison and Brown.  


"Well, look what the cat dragged in," he feigned polite joviality, "It's the youngest of the Fletcher brood.  Where's the rest of the crew?  I haven't seen you people in here for weeks."


Sera felt a flood of fear and anger.  He likely knew damn well why they hadn't come lately.  Now he was sitting here gloating and rubbing it in.  She hated this man for what he did to her friend's mother.  She hated that they had to move away and she couldn't know where they were.  At least he didn't know where they were.  Look at him, what a big shot — just because his family owned most of the lumberyards in town.  


Don't say anything stupid.  Don't be afraid, she reminded herself.  Remember why you are here.  


"Hello, Mr. MacDonald," she responded while removing her hat and mitts, "Hello, Constables.  People have been busy, I guess."  She strained to see if her favourite booth was available.  She felt relief when she saw Jenny clearing her favourite table near the back.


The constables shifted in their seats uncomfortably. They didn’t look like they enjoyed his company.


Daryl continued, "Now, how's that Daniel doing in college?"


"Fine, thanks."


"He's a fine young lad, " Daryl continued to his companions, "He's going to make a fine officer some day."


The other men nodded in agreement and sipped their coffee.  


“Yes, siree.  And I heard he’s going to be a father too,” he gaffawed and slapped the table.


"Excuse me," Sera said curtly and headed towards the back. 


She walked at an even pace towards her booth.  Jenny was clearing away dishes from the previous customers and stopped to smile at her, "Hello, Sera. How are you, sweetie?"


"Not great, really," she responded, removing her coat, folding it and tossing it into the corner of one of the benches.  She scooped up a couple of plates and put them into the bussing bin that Jenny was holding, helping her tidy up.  


"I miss you, Sera," Jenny said, still performing her work, "I miss your whole family."   She pulled a handkerchief from her apron and blew her nose.  


"I miss you too, Mrs. Young," the girl responded, "I miss Amy and Mr. Young, I guess.  I miss this place."  Their eyes met. Sera was frowning and looked down at the table. "I miss Victoria."  She burst into silent tears, her shoulders shaking with each painful sob.  She sunk her chin into her chest and hunched her shoulders.


Jenny put her arms around Sera and held her closely.  


"I miss her so much.  I'm so lonely and I don't know .. don't know what to do."


"I know.  I understand, Sera." 


"I miss … how things used to be.  Mom is still not well enough. They say she's gone into a 'relapse'.   Aunt Georgette tries to cheer me up but I just don't feel any better.  I miss coming here, being here."


She gladly accepted the tissue Jenny offered her and blew her nose loudly.  


"Here, sit down."  Jenny slid in beside Sera on the bench with her arm around her shoulder and her head leaned in so she could speak softly.  "Things have been pretty tense around our place too.  Carl is embarrassed and angry with Amy.  That is why he had her sent away to that place in Toronto."


"I know.  I heard it from Dela and Gwen."


"It's ... very lonely around here without her too.  My own little girl," she blew her nose one more time and breathed out in relief, "Thank goodness for Gio arranging with the high school that she could finish her studies from there."  


"He's not half-bad, then," Sera commented, "How is Amy ... feeling?"


"Oh, she's a tough one but still her little princess self," she smirked, "and she tells me on the phone that she has been eating a lot. I mean A LOT!"


"Great. I wish she was here.  I wish I could see her big belly ... and feel the baby moving. "


Jenny looked down at her delicate hands and whispered, "Me too."


A small group of people entered the restaurant and seated themselves.  Jenny sighed then gave Sera a half hug and squeezed her shoulders to her chest, "I had better get back to work. Where's that Carolyn?  She's supposed to be covering the other side of the room.  Are you hungry?"


"Yes.  May I have a bowl of wonton soup?"


"Sure thing," Jenny replied as she rose to grab the bin and headed towards the kitchen. She turned and whispered, 


"It's nice to see you again, Sera."  


"Same here, Mrs. Young."




After she finished her soup and blew her nose again, Sera sat quietly and gazed at the rabbit painting above her booth.  She took in the red, gold and green designs, the curves and simple patterns.  She felt sadness.  She felt a distant joy and contentment.  She smiled.  It was her first in a long time.  I miss this, she thought.  


The kitchen door swung open slowly.  Carl Young emerged, wearing his kitchen whites, as usual and holding a towel.   He approached Sera's booth with slow, even steps, wiping his hands.  


Sera perked up nervously and smiled, "Hello, Mr. Young."


"Hello, stranger, " he responded.


"Would you like to join me?"


"Sure.  Sure." he smiled briefly and sat across from her, "I guess I could take a break."  He sighed and groaned as he sat down on the bench.  Within seconds, Jenny swiftly brought over a coffee cup and saucer, filled the cup and dropped off the cream and sugar.  Carl gave a curious look, almost surprised that his wife was so quick in serving him.  


Sera bit her lip, looking down then slowly lifted her gaze to meet his tired eyes.  He appeared old and sad.  She rarely saw him sitting still for long periods.  


"Happy New Year, Mr. Young."


"Happy New Year, Sera."


"Soon it will be the Year of the Rabbit, yes?"


"Yes, that's right," he responded, looking up at the painting. 


Sera leaned forward, "It's my favourite year, you know, since I was born in it and.. that was the year you opened the restaurant."


Carl smiled slightly and nodded.  "That's right.  I forgot."


"I was wondering if you were going to have a celebration of any sort.  You know, like an anniversary party?"


"Oh.  I hadn't thought of that.  I've been.... busy."


"You could invite a lot of people."


"Really?" he shifted in his seat.


"Sure.  I could help with the decorations. I'm sure Dela and Gwen would like to help too."


"Sounds nice," he nodded, his eyes scanning the booths and front of the restaurant then took a sip of coffee.  


"I miss Amy!" she blurted out.


Carl, closed his eyes, breathed out slowly and set down his cup.


"I miss her, Mr. Young.  So do Dela and Gwen.  So does.. Mrs. Young."


"Sera..."


"I may just be a kid but I know she didn't do anything horrible.  She's pregnant and yes by my brother.  Stupid teenagers," she rolled her eyes, "Stupid. But.. but, it's not like she killed someone."


Carl looked at her sternly. 


"Please, Mr. Young," she pleaded with a soft whisper, stretching her hands across the table, "Let her come back home.  The place isn't the same without her.  I miss coming here with my family.  I miss that, Mr. Young.  


"Sera..." he said in a tired manner.


"Please." Her green eyes watered and bore pitifully at him.  He did not want to destroy her youthful innocence.


"Sera.  It's a matter of honour, of family pride.  She shamed the family.  I gave her the best of everything and this is what happens... If this was another place and time, a girl in her situation would be…"


"I understand, Mr. Young. Well, I don't really ... I respect your opinion."


"Thank you."


"If it's a matter of you not wanting her at home right now, can she come and stay with us? "


"Oh.. Now I see.  Did your father send you here?"


"No!  I came by myself.  They don't know that I'm here. It was very hard for me to come here by myself especially seeing ... " she scowled, "seeing HIM here." her head jerked towards the front of the room.


"I see..."


"My friend was sent away with her mom because he hit her.  I haven't seen her for months. I've only received one letter from her. I miss her. I also miss Amy. Dela and Gwen miss Amy. I miss coming here with my family. Please, please, can we just put things back the way they were?"


"I don't see how we can do that, Sera.  My heart is broken. My family is shamed."


More people entered the restaurant, stomping the snow off their boots, shaking their hats and heading to join their companions.


"I.. I…  should let you get back to work, Mr. Young." said Sera, rising, "Looks like the winter carnival has brought a lot of people out today."


"Yes, I should get back...."


Sera put Aunt Georgette's money on the table and slid it under her empty soup bowl.  She grabbed her coat and got up to put it on.


Carl sat back and stared sadly at her.


"Thank you for the soup, Mr. Young.  It was delicious and warm as usual."


"Thank you for dropping by, Sera."


"Happy New Year,"  she said as she put on her touque, turned and walked quickly towards the front door. 


- - End excerpt - - 


Sample more excerpts.    See what others have shared after reading The Year of the Rabbit.  Download the first 20% of the novel for free at Smashwords.  Thanks for dropping by www.yearoftherabbit.ca.  

Appreciation and Regrets

Before I went on a much-needed vacation a few weeks ago, I put up a poster in my place of work to promote the novel - and the Ebook discount (until October 31st).  


The response was wonderful with people interested in purchasing a copy of The Year of the Rabbit.  They wanted a printed, autographed copy.  


I appreciate their request for the beloved, printed book format.  Sadly, I have not yet had time or energy to produce a second printed version. If I do, I will have to make amends to nature due to my claim that "no trees were harmed" while publishing the book :o\ 


As readers know, the story contains a strong theme about trees.  


Attention:  For the wonderful people who purchased the first print edition, I am offering a limited-time SmashWords coupon for 100% off the Ebook price.  Send me an email before November 30, 2011.  You know how to reach me.   I will send you a coupon code that you can use at Smashwords. 


Anyone else can go to the Smashwords link and download 20% of the novel in many different formats for free.  How can you beat that?  At least you can get a taste for the characters and story before committing to a purchase.  I am sure you will enjoy meeting Gio, Sera and Aunt Georgette. 


Thanks again!


T

Another Public Reading for the Rabbit

On Wednesday June 29th, "Florence" made an appearance at the Ottawa Independent Writers Reading Night at the LAC.  

I had to alter the text that I read aloud from my novel in order to hide the identity of the corpse in the "murder scene".  Are we intrigued yet?  Some people were! 

After my reading, I sat at the back of the room listening to the others.  As I gazed out one of the large windows into the dimming daylight, I noticed a patchy brown rabbit nibbling grass in one of the flowerbeds.  I was excited to bring it to the attention of my seating companion.  He responded with a smile and whispered the title of my novel.

I don't know why I would become excited at discovering this little mammal - although it was a lovely coincidence.  It's not like there are any live rabbits represented in the story.  The only ones referred to are those that appear in drawings, paintings at the Red Hare restaurant and a native boy's dream. The rabbit reference is more about the Chinese Zodiac character.   It refers to young Sera Fletcher's unique coping methods after losing a friend in 1974 then gaining a newborn nephew in 1975.  She creates a connection to the baby's birth in the same Zodiac year as her own and uses it as a sign of hope.  Little does she know that she would eventually -- (Oops. I have said too much already).     
 

During a lull in the readings, one member agreed to my request for a book exchange.  He gladly traded a copy of his children's book for a copy of The Year of the Rabbit.  I had to warn him that mine was NOT a book for children.  

Another member was very interested in reading and purchasing the book but did not have cash on hand.  I graciously advanced him a copy for his summer reading and we agreed on payment at a later date.  I trust him.  Besides, I know where he lives...


Do you want a taste of the Rabbit?  (in a word sense, that is...)

• Venture down the Rabbit hole (the novel's domain)
• Follow Florence T Lyon on Twitter (Please Retweet my request to convince a certain English Literature High Honours Graduate to read her mother's book. The agreed-upon condition was that she would only do so after it had sold 100 copies) 
• Read some excerpts
• Please Like the Rabbit on the Facebook Fan Page
• Buy the book

Thanks for dropping by!  

T

Postal workers could strike this week

Oh, fwonderful...  My pretty blonde head is calculating chances of receiving some printed copies of the novel in time for a speaking engagement in June.

All the more reason to get that eBook version ready. I'm just so tuckered out since the move to the little apartment. I am sooo looking forward to return to work, only to worry about disk space for bloated mailboxes rather than storage space in a smaller apartment :o}

CBC News
Posted: May 30, 2011 10:44 AM ET  Last Updated: May 30, 2011 7:44 PM ET
Postal workers could strike this week
Mail service could stop Friday if contract isn't reached
http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/story/2011/05/30/canada-post-strike.html

Let's hope contract issues can be resolved soon. Regular, "traditional" postal service is featured fondly in the novel that takes place in the 1970s.  There was no email, no texting or Twitter.  Such simpler times. 

It's ready! Print on Demand version released today

Exhaling with relief and bittersweet satisfaction.  

After many months of working with editing services, proof readers and exploring publishing options, I can finally announce the novel's release with a Print on Demand service. An Ebook version will be coming soon. 

- - - - -

The Year of the Rabbit
A novel about Fate, Family and Forgiveness

A young priest, resigned to going through the motions of following the teachings of the church in a small Muskoka town during the 1970's, finds his true calling through unexpected encounters with his precocious love child and his attempts to protect her from the evils in the world.

A little girl tries to make sense of her lonely world and sees the Year of the Rabbit as one of hope due to the birth of her illegitimate nephew.

- - - - -

• Visit the novel's domain 
• Read Chapter 1 in PDF
• Buy the book

Thanks again to those who showed interest, provided wise advice and words of encouragement. 

I have planted a seed and will return in a couple of months to see how this grows. Real-life demands await me.

T

Second set of proofs for review

So, I received a pair of proof copies of "the novel".  

I can see there are already areas that need updating and correcting.  Ack!  The online publishing / print on demand service recommends to do three sets of proofs because there's always something you're going to miss...  Thanks to SJ for tips. 

This is very exciting yet tiring.  It's almost like being pregnant and having false labour.  Just come out already!  I love you baby.  I created you and think you are so beautiful.  I want you to greet the world, this mixed-up yet promising world.  I hope people will think you are beautiful too.

Let the Celebrations Begin!

 

Born in the Year of the Rabbit? What the Chinese say about you, reported at TheEpochTimes. 

You're in good company ;-)  I'm presently burrowed up inside due to the snow storm that passed through southern Ontario this week and is heading eastward.  I am surprised that Shubenacadie Sam actually got up today!

Did you know... 2011 has also been declared International Year of Forests? 

I find this a beautiful coincidence. In my novel, eleven-year-old Sera Fletcher tries to make sense of her lonely world and sees the 1975 Year of the Rabbit as a year of hope with the birth of her illegitimate nephew. She is also a lover of nature, trees and an unintentional avenger, protector of a forest in her own community. 

No pet bunnies, please

In line with the gifting advice provided during Christmas about puppies and kittens and at Easter about pet rabbits...  Please use good judgment when wanting to celebrate this promising occasion. 

"Unfortunately, we are living in a consumer-oriented society -- people get tempted easily especially when it's cute and cuddly," she said."

"Rabbits aren't just cute and fluffy, they're high-maintenance animals who require significant resources, equipment, attention and veterinary care."

• http://www.google.com/hostednews/afp/article/ALeqM5hp39UWEOX8kyCz6LSs8HtGc2gO0Q
• http://news.asiaone.com/News/Latest+News/Asia/Story/A1Story20110124-259927.html

T

The Novel Progress Report January 2011

New Year.  New post. 

Over the holidays I invested some time to apply edits and changes suggested by a paid, professional service.  I was contented with most of them and will need to discuss the others before committing to the next level in our relationship. ;-)

I also took time to write the murder scene.  In the first draft, I had only alluded to it in various sections. That didn't work and seemed to cause confusion for my readers.  This time, I got up the courage to write it.  It proved as a form of release, battling demons without getting graphic or gruesome.  

The next time I post, I hope it will be to announce the expected publication date and to provide links to e-book sources.  Wish me luck. 

I admire the writers / artists who dedicate themselves to post something in their blogs every day.  One artist friend says it encourages the creative process if she posts something on a regular basis.

Having a family and full time day job does not allow me the luxury to be so committed. 

Until next time, thanks for reading.  You can also follow my deep blonde thoughts blog posts, tongue-in-cheek reflections on life experiences and life styles. 

T

Illustrating my ideas

A few weeks ago, I had dinner with some artist friends.  They listened intently as I attempted to describe the plots and characters from my hopeful novel.  One agreed to create some drawings based on my cover design ideas.  We met every couple of weeks to review the sketches and agree on changes.  She is a patient, creative friend :-} 

On Friday, I picked up the final copy of the favourite one.  Here is a scanned version.

 
Thanks, Yohanna.

It represents the sadness and loneliness that Sera experienced while missing her lost friend and working out her own philosophies on life and death. One way she coped was to choose the year of the rabbit as one to provide new hope with the arrival of her newborn nephew, Harry.

The next Year of the Rabbit will soon be upon us.  I am not a superstitious person nor affiliated with any organized belief system.  I do respect ancient wisdom and traditions.  2011 will be a hopeful and ambitious year for me, a rabbit hopping into the crossroads of life. 

Wine

Excerpt from Chapter 12 - before edits

It was after dinner when Georgette located Gio in the greenhouse, trimming rose bushes and humming “Lavender Blue”.   She had already checked in on Sera and shared a glass of wine with his parents. 

He heard her heels click-clacking on the stonework outside as she approached the door, then the tap-tap-tap of a shoe against the door.

“Knock, knock!” she called lyrically.

“Come in,” he sang back to her.

“Mais, my hands are full,” she replied sweetly.

He turned and reached for the door handle.  Through the frosted glass he could see her womanly silhouette, standing with one hip positioned higher than the other, both arms bent slightly and each hand holding a wine goblet.

As Gio opened the door, he breathed in sharply when he saw her wearing a dark blue summer dress, tied at the waist with a white satin belt.  Her hair was pinned up with just a few copper curls dropping to the side and back of her neck.  As she smiled, her slightly sunburned face crinkled, revealing crows-feet around her twinkling, aging eyes.

“Georgette,” he said softly, “You look beautiful this evening!”

She smiled, cocked her head to one side and inquired coquettishly, “Just this evening?”

He chuckled and stood aside to let her in.  She handed him a glass of red wine, “From the recent batch.  Your parents wanted your opinion.” She sashayed inside and stood near his workspace.

“Thank you,” he said with a bow, “Err… merci, mademoiselle. Grazie.”

“De rien,” she cooed.

Gio sipped slowly, rolled his tongue around in his mouth then swallowed.

“So, what is your opinion?” she asked.

He set his glass down on the table in front of two large plant pots, leaned his lower back against the table and said, “It’s great.  It’s perfect.”

“That’s it?” she chuckled as she stepped closer.  She looked at the pots on the table.

“What are you working on, Gio?  What are these? They don’t look like rose bushes,” She slid in for a closer look.

“Just a project I started a few years ago,” he replied softly then took her wine glass and set it down beside his. 

“So… how is the wine?” she insisted. 

He extended his right hand to her. She accepted.  He pulled her closer and enveloped her with his arms, one around her shoulders and the other around the small of her back.  She put her arms under his and around his back.

Gio buried his face in her hair, breathed in then let out a big sigh, “It was worth the wait.”

Despite her womanly experience, she trembled.  He pulled her closer, her hip pressed against his thigh. 

“Are you cold?” he asked.

“No,” she looked up at him, smiling, “Just nervous.  I feel like a young woman.”

“I feel like a man…  a free man,” he sighed and squeezed her gently against him.

“I can tell,” she quipped, “Whatever that is in your pants is starting to hurt me.”

“Oh, that,” he laughed, “No.  No, that’s … something I wanted to show you.  I guess this is a good time.”

“Really?” she smirked, leaning back slightly.

- End excerpt -

10-10-10 is a big wedding weekend

Here's wishing good luck, health, happiness and perfection to people getting married today!

Numbers mean perfection in some cultures, and that means weddings
CBC News
Last Updated: Friday, October 8, 2010 | 2:49 PM ET

"Wedding chapels, churches and banquet halls around the world are booked solid this weekend as couples look to the numbers 10-10-10 in search of wedding perfection.

10-10-10 may be a perfect wedding date, unless you're still trying to rent a limo.  Many have planned for Sunday — Oct. 10, 2010 — years in advance.  "

Full story:  http://www.cbc.ca/consumer/story/2010/10/08/con-wedding-weekend.html

A child is born

I hope readers enjoy this excerpt from Chapter 7 and share my feelings on the joyous occasion of the birth of a child. Although it's a hot day in August, consider for your imagination, a cold February night in 1975. 


Begin excerpt: 

Gio left Marie, Georgette and Matthew to deal with the teenagers and headed quietly to Amy's room.  It was a good thing her roommate was heavily sedated with the commotion of the two families in and out this evening. 

He stood in the doorway, watching as Sera held her nephew in her arms, gently rocking him back and forth.  Gio's heart swelled with pride and sorrow. 

"He's so cute, Amy." Sera sniffed, "He's so beautiful – and hairy!"

"Yeah, he is beautiful, isn't he?" Amy responded weakly from her bed, already dozing off.

"What are you going to call him?" she sniffed again.

"I didn't even think about that.  How stupid to not even think of a name yet. I'm just sooo tired..."

"Oh, don't worry, something will come to you soon," Sera turned her loving gaze to the slumbering baby, "Right, hairy boy?"

The nurse slid past Gio to retrieve the baby and take him back to the nursery. Sera protested at first then gave in to her authority.  Amy had already fallen asleep and could care less. 

The nurse expertly bundled him back up into a tightly wrapped package.  She swept him into her arms, walked towards the visiting area and stated, "All right you people, it's time to move out.  Come back tomorrow morning at eleven."

"Yes, nurse," said Gio. 

"Have a good night, Father."

"Bless you, Dorothy."

Sera pulled the blankets up over Amy's petite body and kissed her on the forehead.  As she headed to the door, she subconsciously reached for Gio's hand and clasped it in hers as they headed down the hall for one last peek through the nursery window. 

"Isn't he beautiful, Gio?"

"He is, " He replied fighting back tears as he gazed at the rows of bassinets.

"He's so small, so helpless - but so loud!"

"They can be that way."

"I finally have a little brother - well, nephew.  This is going to be fun."

Gio turned to look at her smiling face faintly reflected in the nursery window.  It was the first time in months that he had seen her happy. 

"He's going to need someone special like you to watch out for him."

"Oh, I will. I love him so much already!" she sniffed., “I feel a special bond with him.” 

"Considering you were there when he was conceived, yes?"

Sera turned quickly to look up at him.  She blushed thinking she was in trouble but when she caught the smirk on his face and glint in his eyes, she relaxed.

"That's right," she quipped, "Plus, he was born the same year as me."

"What's that?"

"The year of the rabbit.  With all the bad things that have happened the last few months, I'm looking forward to this year.  Things can only get better, right?"

He paused to recite some memorized scripture for the occasion then stopped, "Sure, Sera.  That's a good way to look at it.  This baby's birth and his development are things to celebrate in hope and love."

"Does he have to be baptized? Can be even be baptized if he's a ..." she whispered closer to him, "bastard?"

Gio placed his large hand on her shoulder and led her back to where the family was waiting, "That's another bridge to cross another day, okay?"

- End excerpt -

Thank you for reading :-)